


Making Dough Rise

by dragonofheaven07



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Anal Sex, Baking, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofheaven07/pseuds/dragonofheaven07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jason and Dick attempt to bake. And then things get sticky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Dough Rise

**Author's Note:**

> Awww, yiss. This was originally split into two parts on tumblr.

Dick stared with a critical eye down the length of his kitchen counter, which was crammed from every available square inch with cooking apparatuses and ingredients, including a variety of multi-colored bowls, measuring cups of all sizes, and a long line of spices in alphabetical order. He crossed his arms and hummed in thought. “I think that’s everything,” he said finally. “This is going to be fun, right Jason?”

He turned to his less enthusiastic companion. His burly arms were folded and the expression on his face was little more than apathetic. “Is this really the best bonding experience? Cooking?” Jason raised a brow. “It would’ve been more tolerable if anyone else in the Bat Brood had shown up.”

“They all cancelled,” Dick said. “Bruce and Damian have a training exercise. Barbara is having dinner with her father. Tim is studying. Even Stephanie had a date this evening.”

“So that leaves me. Brilliant,” Jason sighed.

Dick gave his fellow Robin one of his thousand-watt smiles. “Well, I’m glad someone showed up.” 

Jason turned back quickly to the covered counter. “So, what were you planning on making?” He grimaced at a molding box of cake mix. “You don’t bake much, do you?”

Dick tapped his chin. “I wanted get everyone else’s opinion first. Did you have a preference—”

“Bread.”

“Bread?”

“Yes.” Jason was a man who could not be swayed. And woe to those who tried.

“Okay, okay. You’re the guest,” Dick laughed. “You have more talent in the kitchen than I do, anyway.” He cleared an empty spot, moving several containers and such to an adjacent table. “Do you know a recipe? I can look one up—”

“We’ll need about six cups of flour, a packet of yeast, about two cups of milk, some sugar, butter, and salt,” Jason listed. He grabbed a large mixing bowl and a saucepan.

Dick hurriedly gathered the ingredients, almost knocking over a bottle of vinegar. “Alright, what do we do first?” He shook a bag of flour, which flopped limply in his hands. 

Jason snickered, “Give me that. You’re going to hurt yourself, Grayson.” He dumped some of the flour and yeast into the bowl. “You can mix these together. I’ll start the stove. I don’t trust you around fire.” 

The first Boy Wonder went to his task as Jason added the milk, sugar, butter, and salt to the slowly heating pan. Dick could tell quite clearly that Jason had done this many times. He delicately stirred the mixture together with the care and finesse of a reality show chef. One flick of his wrist was enough to get the mix in motion. Were his hands always so agile?

Dick was so absorbed by Jason’s technique that he almost jumped when Jason lightly tapped his spoon against the saucepan. 

“Don’t space out on me now,” Jason chided playfully. “You’re making a mess.”

Dick didn’t realize he was. Little flecks of flour had splashed onto the sides of the bowl, the counter, even his face. He moved to brush a spot on his cheek, but another hand was quicker. 

Jason pinched the flour between his long fingers, and flicked it into the bowl. “Let me do this part,” he smirked.

Dick gladly turned away. He could feel his cheeks growing hot and an unknown pang throughout his body, as if a wave had suddenly crashed into him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt something like this, let alone around his former successor. 

Jason took the smooth milky mixture from the pan and poured it into Dick’s bowl. Then he whipped the contents together, combining them into one evenly distributed solid piece of dough. He dumped the hunk onto a sheet of plastic wrap. 

“Now we knead it,” Jason said, patting his hands with a coat of flour. He stretched the dough, folding it back and turning it slightly, then repeated the process. 

Dick was getting lost in Jason’s movements. A centre of pain developed in his chest, a burning intensity that would swallow him up, that was going to be the end of him.

“Alright,” Jason gestured to him. “Now you try.”

“Oh. Okay,” Dick nodded stiffly. Doing his best to avoid Jason’s gaze, he dipped his hands in the flour and clumsily pulled the dough forward.

Jason shook his head. “No, no, Christ, not like that. You’re going to tear it. Here.” He layered his hands atop Dick’s, causing a shock to roll down the acrobat’s spine. “You have to be firm, but direct. Don’t let it get too stringy, or it won’t rise properly.”

“Uh, y-yeah.” Dick felt the warm tickle of Jason’s breath on his shoulder, the bare skin of his forearms as they enveloped him from behind. It was getting too much to bear. 

Then Jason started to lean in closer, tightening the embrace, wrapping around his limber form. He nuzzled Dick’s neck, gently sucking on the soft flesh.

“J-Jason, what are you—” When Jason’s lips grazed Dick’s collarbone, he winced, letting out a strangled moan. 

“Oh, nothing.” Jason’s hand, still sticky from the dough, began to linger over his chest, pressing around until it brushed against Dick’s ass. He gave it a small squeeze.

Dick bucked immediately, arching his body as the heat inside him neared its peak. “P-Please, s-stop,” he managed to stammer as another involuntary moan escaped his throat. 

But Jason just smiled and said, “No.” He traveled back to Dick’s front, his fingertips stroking the rock-hard bulge that had developed in Dick’s jeans. Jason cupped the growth, making little criss-crosses along the base.

Dick groaned, throwing his head back at the contact. His labored breathing was interrupted as Jason’s lips crashed into his. Dick welcomed the kiss as Jason’s tongue lashed in his mouth, distracting him as his jeans button was unclasped and his zipper slid down.

Jason ventured into Dick’s boxers, caressing the few coiled hairs before gripping his cock. He twisted it in his palm, yanking the sensitive skin, his speed increasing.

Dick was panting now at the touch, shaking fiercely, latching onto Jason’s wrist for support. “Oh G-God, Jason, please!” he whimpered, biting his lip. He was positively melting, at the point of no return. Without a release, he would die.

Jason grinded his hips against the acrobat in tune with his strokes, his other hand gliding beneath Dick’s shirt. “Almost there, Dickie, almost…” 

He gave one final rub to his cock and suddenly Dick was tense and letting loose a cry, coming long and hard. Jason grinned, “Good boy.”

His breath short and choppy, Dick fell back into Jason in his exhaustion, his vision blurry and streaked. 

“How was that?” Jason whispered in Dick’s ear, holding him closer.

“It was…good,” Dick admitted. He buried his head in Jason’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said shyly, his face still flushed.

Jason chuckled, “My pleasure.”

-

For the next several minutes the pair of former Robins just stood before the kitchen counter. Dick’s breathing began to slow as he tried to piece together what had just happened: the two of them were making bread and he had gotten all hot and uncomfortable, when Jason went and did that to him.

Bread?

“You alright yet?” Jason asked, shaking his shoulder a little.

“Uh, y-yeah, I think so,” Dick nodded. He collapsed against the counter, his palms hitting the edge.

“That’s good,” Jason smiled, patting his back. “Didn’t want to break you just yet.” 

”What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jason brushed him off. “So, about the bread?” He gestured to the forgotten dough.

Dick tried to lean up, but found that he was still a little shaky. “Um, Jay? I can’t really move…”

 

“I’ll get it,” Jason reached for the dough. “You just sit tight.” He dropped it into the mixing bowl, molding it into a ball. 

Dick watched as his partner greased the sides of the bowl with some of the extra butter, getting the dough coated. It suddenly occurred to him that Jason’s hands were still wet and sticky from his release.

With which he was touching the dough. Which Dick had been planning on eating. He started to feel sick and flustered all over again, his stomach churning. 

The second Robin licked one of his fingers. “Delicious,” he smirked at Dick. “Maybe I should just eat you instead?”

The comment made Dick feel even worse, his chest tightening and his cheeks getting warm. It was happening all over again, that rush of arousal, that yearning to be touched just as strong, and as much as he wished it the tingling sensation just wouldn’t stop.

It didn’t help that his pants were still down, still damp. He tried to pull them up, but found that his body wasn’t having any of that. “Dammit…”

Jason meanwhile was covering the bowl with a small towel. He placed it near the stove top, setting the preheating options on the oven. “Okay, so now we just have to wait until the dough doubles in size. Then we can finally cook this fucker.” He stood next to Dick, crossing his arms. “Should take about forty minutes. You game?”

“Sure…” Dick most certainly wasn’t game for standing there for more than five. But he wouldn’t let Jason know that. No freaking way.

As fifteen minutes passed, and then thirty, Dick realized just how torturous holding back could be. He held his stomach, trying not to look Jason in the eye, who was nonchalantly tapping his foot, staring at the timer he had set. Every time Jason turned back at him, Dick felt he was one step closer to losing it. 

“Got something to say?” Jason asked, leaning over.

“N-No.” Dick tried to focus on memorizing the design of the floor tiles. It wasn’t working.

Jason moved his arms on either side of Dick, locking him on the spot so he couldn’t run off. “Don’t lie to me, Dickie,” he smiled.

“I’m not—” Dick was interrupted as Jason grabbed his face, the gap between them closing.

“Let’s just be honest here, shall we? We’re both perfectly aware that you’re turned on as hell.” Jason lightly stroked a line up Dick’s crotch, causing the acrobat to let out a moan. ”It’s not good to keep things bottled up.” 

Dick’s heart was pounding, the rhythm so loud he was sure Jason could hear it. “Then what do you suggest?”

“I can think of a few things.” Jason picked Dick up, as easily as a child would a rag-doll, and sat him on the counter facing him. 

“H-Hey!” Dick flailed, attempting to jump down, but Jason held him in place, a firm hand on each of his thighs.

“Now that I’ve got you warmed up, I might as well finish the job.”

This wasn’t happening. This was not happening. 

“Jason, don’t you dare—”

“What? This?” He widened the space between Dick’s legs.

Dick pushed against Jason’s shoulders. “No.”

“Yes.” And with that, Jason was jamming a hand back into his wet boxers.

The fire inside him quickly spread down into his toes, the familiar sensation rocking Dick to his core. He let out low whimper as he bit his lip, his leg twitching. 

“Easy, easy. Relax,” Jason murmured, his fingers wrapping around Dick’s cock, rubbing gently. “It’s just you and me here. Don’t hold back.” His free hand roamed up the little groves of the acrobat’s chest, tugging beneath his shirt.

Dick yelped at the second Robin’s nimble touches and clawed into his back. He tilted his hips to catch some of the friction, and god, that felt good.

“Here, lemme hold you up for a sec…” Jason lifted him and yanked down Dick’s disheveled pants and boxers, leaving his lower half completely on display. He eyed the acrobat up and down, thoroughly pleased. “Much better,” Jason grinned. 

Dick shut his eyes, his face a deep scarlet, as Jason ventured across his body, just being taken by the fondling, the tender poking and prodding. As he leaned into Jason’s sticky hands, Dick realized he really wanted this feeling. He wanted this feeling more than anything he could possibly ask for. 

It caught them both by surprise when the loud beep of the kitchen timer sounded, snapping them out of the heated mood. 

Jason slowly pulled away, letting the hand on Dick’s chest linger for a bit. Dick grasped onto it, desperate, needy. “Please…don’t stop. Please?”

“Wait here,” Jason whispered. “I’ll be right back.” He took the dough and dumped it into a nearby pan, then slid it into the the oven. He slammed the door shut as he punched in another number on the timer.

“We have thirty minutes until it’s done baking,” Jason said, filling back in the space between Dick’s long legs. “Let’s make it count.” And he went back to where he left off, thumbing the head of Dick’s leaking cock. 

That ache for Dick to come was in clear sight, taunting him, teasing him, daring him to release at every new stroke. He mewled, a helpless innocent noise. 

“Cute, Dickie,” Jason tapped his forehead against Dick’s, wiping a lock of hair from his sweat-soaked brow. “You should look like this more often.”

“Sh-Shut up,” Dick groaned, sinking his chin into Jason’s shoulder, his breath labored, erratic.

Jason glided down the ridges of Dick’s spine, down until he was right on top of his little hole. He traced the outside, the puckered skin twitching at his touch.

Dick’s eyes shot open. “Oh, god.”

“Not here at the moment,” Jason smirked. “Would you like to leave a message?” He sucked on a finger, getting it sleek with saliva. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna feel really, really good.” 

Dick shook his head, making himself dizzy. “I-I can’t…Jay please, I can’t…” He heart leaped as Jason cupped around his balls, a distraction. ”Please Jay?”

“I have faith in you.” The finger gradually eased into Dick’s tight tight entrance, a scream escaping from his dry lips. ”It’s okay, Dickie. Just relax, just go with it.”

It hurt in a different way than what Dick was used to, not exactly earth-shattering, he’d put up with so much worse. It was just…odd. He felt Jason’s finger retract a bit before darting forward again, stretching his insides. 

When Jason added another finger, Dick clenched his teeth, dug his nails into Jason’s shoulder blades. His entire body writhed in agony, so close yet so very far. The thrusts varied in speed, several fast, several slow, the pattern changing at random. 

“Deep breath,” Jason told him, and he suddenly pulled his fingers out. 

Dick choked, his fists unfurling. He heard the metallic clicks of a zipper, saw a flash of red. He opened his mouth to protest, but was instead silenced with a greedy kiss.

Jason’s fingers couldn’t even compare. Tears stung the corners of Dick’s eyes, squeezed shut. “I-I’m gonna k-kill you…” he stuttered.

“I’d like to see you try.” Jason’s movements intensified, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper into the acrobat, searching around inside him.

Dick clung to his partner, death feeling closer than ever before. He concentrated on the kiss, a line of drool running down his lip. The pain couldn’t possibly get any worse.

And then…holy fuck.

“There.”

Jason didn’t have to ask him to elaborate. He pounded into Dick’s sweet spot. “That’s it,” he panted. “Give in to me.”

Dick wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist like a vice, almost hovering off the counter. Throbbing. Screaming. Pleading. His body was no longer his own, but Jason’s, and Jason’s alone. “…J-Jay, I—” 

“Let it out, Dickie.” Jason plunged in his cock once more. “Come for me.”

Dick violently quivered, inhaling sharply. He arched back, screamed again as he finally came, all the pent up fury released at last in one long hot burst.

Jason smiled, his own erection straining as Dick’s insides tightened around him. “Beautiful…”

Dick’s entire body relaxed, and his head slumped forward, his eyes fluttering closed.

The sight of Dick completely spent, exhausted in his arms, was too much for Jason, and with a soft grunt he came too. 

“So good, Dickie,” he muttered against Dick’s neck as the kitchen timer rang.

“So good, you have no idea.”

-

“It’s ready now?” 

“I suppose,” Jason pulled out the steaming pan. “It’s a little flat.”

“Looks fine to me,” Dick said.

“You try it, then.” Jason took a knife and spliced off a piece, “Here. Eat it.”

“Uh, guests first?” Dick laughed nervously. He was still remembering what had been unintentionally mixed in along with the rest of the ingredients.

“Your loss.” Jason popped the slice into his mouth.

Dick stared at him as he chewed, waiting on the verdict. “And?”

“Not bad,” Jason replied. “Not bad at all.” He nudged Dick’s arm. “Maybe I should use you more often?” he laughed.

Dick turned, concealing a blush. “I guess it was a good thing nobody else was able to make it, then,” he shyly scratched his head.

“Yeah, I guess.” Inside his mind, Jason was snickering. Those invites Dick had sent never made it past his hard-drive. Jason had made sure of that personally. Those excuses from the rest of the Batfamily? Totally fabricated. Score one for Jason Todd.

“We should do this again,” Jason grinned. “Then I could show you how it’s really done.”

“You mean the cooking, right?” Dick flinched. “You don’t mean—”

Jason stole another kiss, petting Dick’s hair. 

“I meant both.”


End file.
